Best Grey Poems
in the uncoloured tint of another everyday
amongst the spit polished waxed apples
tightly packed in burlap bags
they walked like minded
in their own burly wrap
oblivious to the irony
to their similarity
of the markets round red fruit
unaware of the tragedy
the horror of events yet to come
it will rain metal shrapnel
as human minds grasp
with the purpose of their existence
as in their ignorance
they understand their worth as human bombs
with a belief the heavens will open the gates
with a fanfare and a promised blessing
for their divine act of unquestioned belief
the clay shaped bricks
the black iron metal stairs
the drum sound of engines
then the lull
not after
but before
before
the pulse of the storm
the rain of death
yet this moment captured
this photograph
with man and child in hand
smells sweet
you wonder
bemused
why?
the world travels
aimlessly
singularly
no one
nothing in the universe
suggests
exposes
even a hint
even a glimpse
not a clue
that would lead
reveal
an answer.
life in its contradiction
like the proverbial apple
offers both
the miracle
the curse.
09/23/2014
There is nothing hotter than a sexy brain
A one of a kind
The bigger the better
With swagger
Nothing titillates more than stroking genius
Sending ripples through the psyche
An ignited muse invoking rapture
With inspiration and seduction
Sliding hand in hand dear
When my mind is whet
You penetrate
I quiver
9,22,17
Wrinkles and gray hair
get me in a rage
and I say to myself,
“Why don't you act your age!"
My poor aching feet
remind me to wear sensible shoes
but these black stilettos
take away the blues.
.
I wear glasses to see
but they're tinted green
and make me look
cool and mean.
I have a million pills to swallow
and sometimes I think my head is hollow.
I forget my keys, my purse and my coat.
Where in the hell did I put that remote?
Once I was so limber
I could touch my toes
but I refuse to talk
about my ills and woes.
When pouring the tea
if my hands shake
I simply say,
"Another earthquake!"
What was I thinking
When I bought that new car?
My old one was fine.
It just couldn’t go far.
I’d go on a trip
if it weren’t for my hip.
Maybe I'll give up drinking.
Well, I’ll just take a sip.
Okay, I’ll take my pills
for all my ills.
I’ll take a walk around the block
but I will not wear those damn compression socks!
Well, I guess I’ll hang in there
as long as I can
just to see my grands
build castles in the sand.
I'll exercise each day
while in my head I’ll say,
“I still feel like I’m only twenty-five.
Thank God, it’s great to be alive!”
By: Carole O’Terry Duet
Copyright: 6/20/2020
“All Rights Reserved”
**Dedicated to those who preceded us and gave their blood, sweat and tears, so we can have the luxuries they could not**
The wind whispers, the wind whispers ----
the wind spreads her wings,
so all can sing her lonesome tune;
An old wind blows, older names gust
and whirl and chime,
remind those unfinished pacts of days gone by,
plea they deep in the night
when the arbor grates the house...
The withered barn is grey to dark
and the yard chasing with ghosts;
whisper in wind of forgotten oaths,
to freedom in day when sun is high,
justice takes pleasure even in shadowed realms,
even the gales cease their roar and great wars die
and the end shall end anew;
What in the wind, with tethered and sleepy heads,
do they ask, do they plead
and have us do?
Winter whitewashes Autumn's decay,
and yet, you know that Spring will soon show.
But, as snowflakes bury Fall's array,
depression deepens with each fresh snow.
Snow-laden trees, like sculptures of clay;
stand exposed, chiseled by a sharp breeze.
And stenciled in statuary grey;
like outstretched fingers, bare branches freeze.
A brisk breeze wrestles your breath away,
in the grip of an unyielding cold.
And muting the sound of children's play;
melancholy thoughts start to take hold.
A stormy day causes nerves to fray,
for doldrums brood within shadows cast.
And folks speculate on Spring's delay,
damping hopes that this weather won't last.
Purple and scarlet ink the sun's rays,
and yet, sunset chills you to the bone.
For as twilight dims on dreary days,
you feel depressed, shut in, and alone.
Winds caressing fringes of
her deep chocolate tresses
as tree nymphs nimbly hid
midst fallen maple leaves
happily prancing round toes,
whilst a crescendo of chimes
played off in near distances,
warm apple pie aroma wafting
upon a zephyr tickling her nose,
unfastened her reddish cloak
for her e'er plunging neckline
exposed an ample décolletage
voluptuously heaving in broad
daylight waiting to seduce a crafty
wolf in sheep's clothing she had afore
encountered on the way to grannies,
called ahead to make reservations
for her & handsome knighted chef
hiding amidst the dark forest with
his trusty sharpened butcher knife,
had acquired Wolfgang Puck's
wickedly-satisfying secret recipe
for savory pack-of-wolves stew
Li'l Reddish Revenge is a dish best served cold-blooded with liberal
scads of punitive napkins and a bottle of vindictively chilled Chianti
On a day bathed in so many shades of misty grey
There upon those rugged cliffs above the Fundy Bay
Heart pounding like the thunder in those crashing waves
Trembling lips dripping with heart felt words I could not say
So shy, I was a teenage girl so much in love
My soul on fire like that blazing stormy sky above
Where lighting crackled and sizzled in a burning flame
As his yearning eyes searched mine there in that wind swept rain
Taking cover in that shack with broken window panes
Where tattered pieces of old lace curtains still remained
Peels of nervous laughter silenced in that broken frame
As the storm outside raged against us all in vain
When with tears of stormy weather still running down his face
His lips found mine there in that that old abandoned place
A moment so electrifying it seared my soul
With a memory that haunts me now that I am old
When stormy weather lets me see him as he was that day
There on those lofty cliffs above the Fundy Bay
My heart pounding like the thunder in those crashing waves
As I drift in the beauty of those shades of misty grey
Dark cumulous clouds contain
the filtered sunlight in a strange
monochromatic sunrise
where birds seen in silhouette
seem to think they can sing color
into this this grey day.
Mountains defined by stark dark shapes
fade into the distance as if swallowed
by fog's mysterious whiteout.
I feel encapsulated, as if inside of
a black and white photograph
that only defers to shades of grey.
© Connie Marcum Wong
March 8, 2015
Back Black and white film photography
Poetry Contest Sponsor Giorgio A. V.
Under the canopy of the pine trees we lay
My brothers and I, and our mates the other three,
They wore a different uniform the colour grey
Yet here in purgatory a smile from them being free
Oh to remember how we all played at the creek
Although their parents with different points of view,
The six of us born within sight of ‘Clinch mountain peak’
Our lot raised to suit the uniform of blue.
We faced each other on the battlefield of ‘Bull Run’
Ne’er a smile of recognition as the rifles reflect,
This is realism in a war of detriment with a gun
Following advice from those in power we respect.
Cannot speak for the others but the bullet caused me pain
Far worse than the wounds with wooden swords when fought,
At least first to go didn’t witness how each were slain
Nor with vigour their efforts from the way we were taught.
So here we are all standing before our beloved God
Waiting to enter heaven having shouldered the blame,
We’ve played our earthly role and carried opinions hod
Never the time to become adult when playing their game.
Thank you Eve Roper
for contest and inspirational first line.
Entered Mark Toney's sponsored
2022 poetry marathon mile 8 contest
poem written 2020
17/7/2022
The black side of a life betrayal and choked dreams
Cries of pain that are locked into their souls
Evil twistfate deals aches and screams
Inside darkened dungeons filled with peril and woe
In the trap, feels like stuck in of eternity madness
Hands are not chained but mind is unclear
Hidden away from the world today within darkness crying
Nightmares of life's perils strike deep irons hotly burns
Blowing with the wind, flying a hurricane
Shamelessly all trying to live from day to day
Frozen ice frosting bites cold deeds creeps inside scars
Slowly from the scrapyard of life's twisted metal crushed
They cried many tear, tears of hope - wanted life to last
But life was not fair enough as the remains lay deeply covered
Unraveling out savagery of an animal cold cutting steel beast cursed
Piercing howls forgiving the past in order to be redeemed blessed
A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and
Anne-Lise Andresen :) - 20.01.2015 -
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
I see a pair of Pink and Greys
They fly on by my way
They seem to be so filled with health
To me they do have so much wealth
They're so majestic in the sky
As I see them flying by
And when they land upon a branch
It really puts me in a trance
Trays of seed I have for them
On which upon they land
Such a lovely sight to see
I could almost feed them from my hand
I love to see them feeding there
As the seed these two birds share
Waking on this grey fall morning;
in the air there lies a warning;
rising angst as fears aborning;
feeling late November’s chill.
Darkened clouds obscure the daybreak,
as I nurse this aging headache;
warmer days are but a keepsake
gone forever, summer’s thrill.
Thinking back as springtime’s grooming
brought me hope with nature’s blooming;
summer’s warmth left me assuming
that forever youth would last.
Suddenly there came September
causing bygones I remember;
now November’s dying ember
leaves me longing for the past.
Damning is this aging season;
robbing hopes with truthful treason;
greying dreams are now the reason
that I’m feeling nature’s warn.
Looking long into the mirror,
aging lines becoming clearer;
end of year is drawing nearer
on this late November morn.
November 11, 2020
ravenous wolf pack
winter has robbed them of food ---
howling in chorus
Written on October 26th 2018
For haiku-senryu- Writing challenge
Sponsor Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
If the Mediterranean waves could carry me to your arms
I'd wake up to your whispers enchanted by your charms.
If the wafting wind could breeze me to your bed
Our longing lips would kiss and hiss,in hungry emotions wed.
If this love I feel could linger in your heart
We'd live our dulcet dreams,and never be apart.
If I could be with you and you could be with me
We'd watch the stars at night,twinkling tranquility
sparkling with secret splendour our blissful destiny.
If we could be together longer than forever
I'd hold on to your hand,be your sufficient other
your dedicated lover ,and even your bestfriend.
I'll be your daily listener,your passion and romance
I'd love you to infinity,to universal ends.
If we could lie together on gossamer soft sand
on threaded silken sheets ,embrace on sun-kissed land
If we could stroll along the empty shore ,share a song and dance
We'd toss each coloured pebble ,and pick -up broken shells.
If I could call out your name,to hear your voice in answer everyday.
If I could turn around to find you standing there looking my way.
If I could be with you to live the promise of today
Tomorrow,I'd still be there...A lavender in your grey.
Not a bio :)Just in case.
Wulf they called me; they called me
long ago, in track and fathered field,
muscled and thighed for the dash to kill
and share the beating blood, the quarry’s
stumbling heart
yet I have kin too, and brave the arrow
and shot you send; nay giddy lad your prey’s
yourself, in your eye’s window, and the wind of
fell and moor, bows to no man, no brother of the
cub, or sceptered raking horny club;
see tis the moment of wind, and bloody fur, that cuts
the screaming cat and rabbit to fearful death, and warms
the wormy hearth, the wulf-mother’s den; the spirit
so nourished yet rushes on, into the black minds of men.